The Ranger & the Gondorian
by greenXteaX96
Summary: A Dunedian Ranger known as Rohirrin has a secret lineage. How will the fate of the fellowship change when she joins? Will one of their members be saved from a horrific fate? Boromir/OC Summary sucks, but the story's much better. Some movie verse included.
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

My feet carried me as quickly as I could go. The sounds of the horn blew frantically in the now lessening distance. I had to make it. I had to make it. Drumming in my ears reminded me that of my pounding heart. Which I knew was from both adrenaline and of worry. The only thing preventing me from coming to his aid was the never-ending stream of Uruk-hai. My sword was covered to the hilt with black blood. Proving that I had slain many already. Enough to have lost count. Wind whispered in my ears as silence fell. No! It couldn't have!

Was I too late? A sword fight rang in my ears even as I engaged in my own with one gruesome beast as it made for my destination. A blow was aimed at my head, but I ducked: stepping quickly to the side before finding a weak point in its armor and thrusting my sword into it. As soon as it crumpled to the dirt, never to rise again from my stab to its chest, I took off at once. Trees blew past me faster now than before. Speed seemed to be on my side as I traveled down the hill and over rocks. No obstacle other than the occasional tree root or rock blocked me.

Legolas and Gimli could be heard in the distance arguing over whom had killed more of the fell animals, but other than that, nothing. No other voices could be made out. I only growled as a sword came at my side. I had not time for this! Maybe I was being too impatient, but who in my situation wouldn't be? The song of my sword was light and swift before it fell against a tree basin from a blow to the stomach. As my distance increased, Galadriel's words rang out in my head as if she was running beside me.

"_He will try to take the Ring from Frodo. You know this. You know his weakness to its power. It is inevitable and must come to pass". I recalled my reply as I stood before her mirror a few day's past. "What if I do prevent his death? What would happen should not he die?" Her laugh was like a silver stream and cut through the glassy silence with little effort. Songs rang out in the beautiful wood I once resided in as home. "Should you save him, the entire future would change. But that is your choice. Love would mingle with despondency and soon, somehow- you will see, with exult. Let your heart tell you your path my dear." _

Finally as I saw the battle sight before me, I wanted to crumple to my knees, but it seemed only my heart fell to the very bottom pit of my stomach. My mouth was dry and I could utter no coherent words. It felt like every one of my limbs had been of no use at that moment. Like I was unable to do anything: a frozen object oblivious to time. Tears dotted my vision as I ran over.

_I had been too late._


	2. Chapter 2: The Sign of the Prancing Pony

_**Disclaimer**: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the characters- save Rohirrin and any aliases of her (including her true name)- the rest is owned by Peter Jackson_

_Though I do own the playlist of songs inspiring this story (not the songs themselves but the..oh you get the point...) anyways, here's the ling below:_

_.com/playlist/22406027531_

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><p>The rain poured down through the thickets of the woods: chilling me to the bone. Despite my efforts of wearing a travel cloak, I shook off cold drops of rain and watched the road before me intently. Patiently, I waited near the large, worn gates of Bree for the four people Gandalf sent word to me of.<p>

'_They are but Halflings; one carries a burden of great evil. You will know the hobbit I speak of, for the presence is like no shadow or darkness I have ever before felt.'_ The wizard had said to me many days past before spurring his horse on towards Isengard.

A far away shriek reached my ears as footsteps hurried closer to my hidden spot in the trees. Four small, cloaked people rushed past as the rain began to pour down even harder. Just as the last one passed by, I jumped from the branch and landed on my feet gracefully. The one in the middle of the group turned and stared at me with wide eyes. "Pippin look out!" He shouted in alarm, his eyes widening. The one called 'Pippin', as well as the other two, swirled around. "W-Who are you? What do you want?" A stout figure with red hair questioned from beside one with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. I held the hilt of my sheathed sword as I knelt before the latter.

"The Wizard sent me to lead you on. He was delayed." The dark-haired one, Frodo Baggins as Gandalf had described, seemed downcast as he gazed at me. His bright blue eyes were weary: making me realize my hood still covered my face. "Trust me Frodo. We will stay at the Prancing Pony for the night, now hurry, you're almost soaked to the bone." Pippin and the one Gandalf described as Meriadoc Brandybuck, lightened at the mention of the Inn.

"Hurry!" The hobbits ran from the wooded cover as I ushered them to the gate. All was silent for a moment, save the pouring of the rain. With three sharp raps from my fist, the slide opened. "A ranger…and four Hobbits in Bree! What do you want?" The old gatekeeper questioned as he opened the door. His exclamation reached the Hobbits as they stood in front of me and I snapped harshly

"We wish to stay at the Inn, our business is our own!" He let us in and mumbled an apology. I paid no heed but turned to the Halflings when the man left us. "Stay close." They knit together and we hurried through the streets.

The Hobbits and I wove our way up the cobbled path, through the crowd which bumped and bashed them. I glared through my cloak at one man who caused Frodo to almost lose his balance, but I caught him and gently rested a hand on his cloaked shoulder. Frodo looked up in relief; we followed his gaze and spotted the sign of the Prancing Pony. The four Hobbits entered the Inn with me in towe. Inside, it was teeming, boisterous and dim. They pulled back their hoods and seemed pleased to be out of the downpour. Men stopped conversation as I stood at the bar.

"Excuse me?" Frodo piped up.

Butterbur, a man I knew well from previous visits, turned and saw me. His eyes seemed worried for a moment but he put on a very realistic mask of welcome. After I motioned downwards, he leaned down over the bar and saw the four. "Good evening, little masters! If you're looking for accommodation we've got some nice, cozy, hobbit-sized rooms available. Oh, and one regular one for you…Rohirrin of course. If you want one, that is. What shall I put the room under Mr.…"

"-Underhill, my name's Underhill." Frodo replied- as easily as if it were a well-rehearsed lie. "Underhill. Yes…" Butterbur nodded and scribbled down the name quickly, then handed us two keys. Floorboards creaked as we walked over to an unused table. We seated in the tap room of the Prancing Pony; the air was murky and smoke-filled whilst drunken men around us laughed gutturally. Several glanced apprehensively at the hobbits but turned away as I glowered at them. Out of the corner of my eye, Sam glanced around neurotically. "Sam. He'll be here. He'll come." Frodo reassured gently, gripping the mug I handed him in a vice grip. Merry sat down at the table with a smile spreading across his face as after getting a drink. However, he was holding a huge stein of beer in comparison to the other three: with a desire to consume it lingering in his eyes.

"What's that?" Pippin asked in shock as Merry slurped the froth from the rim of the mug. "This, my friend, is a pint." Merry managed as he drank more. "It comes in pints? I'm getting one." Pippin exclaimed as he jumped up and rushed to the bar. "You had a whole half already!" Sam called after his friend but turned back to his mug with a huff of air when his statement went ignored. My empty hands rested on the table- I wasn't one to drink.

No later than a moment, Sam nudged Frodo and gestured to the corner of the room. A dark cloaked figure sat alone, smoking a pipe. His face was concealed behind a hood like mine.

"That fellow's done nothin' but stare at you since we arrived."

I gazed at the figure, but semi-listened as Frodo asked Butterbur who was passing by. "Excuse me, that man in the corner, who is he?" Frodo asked politely. "He's one of them rangers. Dangerous folk they are-wandering the wilds." He paused after he noticed me glowering at him. "What his right name is I've never heard, but around here, he's known as Strider." The barman stood upright and left before I could utter a single insult to him.

"Strider." Frodo repeated to himself. Only the gleam of the man's eyes could be differentiated above the glow of the burning leaf in his carved mahogany pipe. But I knew those bluish-grey irises only too well. His eyes turned to mine and he seemed confused, but I only nodded to him before I realized we were about to be in trouble.

"Baggins!" Frodo snapped out of a reverie as I turn from Strider in the corner. Pippin sat at the bar, surrounded by men. One pat him on the shoulder and sneered slightly at Pippin's loose tongue caused by his consumption. "Sure I know a Baggins. He's over there, Frodo Baggins." He motioned to Frodo with his mug in hand. "He's my second cousin, once removed on his mother's side and my third cousin twice removed on his father's side, if you follow me." The Hobbit continued to blabber on as Frodo jumped up.

Strider and I sat up, his attention fairly caught in interest; but mine only in worry. Frodo rushed towards the bar to stop Pippin from gibbering any further. "Pippin!" Frodo tried to grab him but slipped on a man's boot. "Steady on, Frodo!" He fell back, tossing the Ring into the air. My chair squeaked loudly as I saw the Ring slip onto his finger, and him disappear altogether. Merry and Sam cast looks between each other in alarm. Pippin rushed over and we began looking for Frodo.

"Over there!" Sam called. Strider had a grip on the Hobbit's shoulders, tossed him up the stairs, and dissappeared from our view. The three grabbed common things to use as weapons, with me leading them up the stairs.

We kicked open every room on the hall until we came to one last one. I could hear a conversation between Frodo and Strider going on inside. "Who are you?" Frodo's tone made me wonder what was happening. "Are you frightened?" Strider replied in a half shock and half amused tone.

"Yes." The Hobbit whispered.

"Not nearly frightened enough- I know what hunts you."

Before I could listen for anything more, Sam ripped open the door. Strider drew his sword as Sam, Merry and Pippin rushed in, Sam with fists scrunched and ready to battle for the safety of his master. "Let him go! Or I'll have you Longshanks!" Strider sheathed his sword and nodded to Sam in approval. "You have a stout heart little hobbit, but that will not save you. You can no longer wait for the wizard Frodo. They're coming."

He turned towards me and spoke in the language I knew only too well. "Ya ier lle?" (Who are you?) I pulled off my hood and even the Hobbits were surprised. My dark brown tendrils flowed to my lower back as I smiled at Strider, my grey-blue hues twinkled with a hidden smirk as I spoke. "Im gelir ceni ad lín." (I am happy to see you again.) He pulled me into a quick hug before look back at the Hobbits. "We should go to the Inn across from this and warn the inhabitants. For I fear the actions in the pub may have drawn attention of…" I nodded in agreement at his unfinished statement before we ushered the four out of the Inn and spoke quietly to Butterbur. "You should order everyone into their rooms. Servants of Sauron are on their way." The barman's eyes tripled in size as he gasped "Sauron? Has it anythin' to do with what happened to Mister Underhill?" Aragorn cast me a glance before nodding. "Aye. You should find shelter before they arrive." The poor man nodded before scurrying away and a crowd of people practically racing to their rooms.

The rain ended, but a damp chill clung to the air as we hurried to the Rising Sun Inn a few yards from the Prancing Pony. After getting a room, I sat by the window with Aragorn at my side. The four Hobbits were curled under the sheets; sleeping peacefully as we kept watch. My eyes cast over to the man beside me. He hadn't changed much; in fact, I didn't think he did at all from the last time I saw him. "When did you join them?" He murmured, motioning to the four. "Just outside of Bree. Gandalf sent word for me to escort them from here." A smile wound its way onto his features. "It seems we have a common purpose." Seconds ticked by slowly in the silence, but it was broken by the sound of screeching.

The Hobbits awoke with a start as Aragorn and I stared intently out the glass window. Figures cloaked in black that had loomed above the small bedding screamed, but it was no ordinary scream. It was indescribable; sending shivers down my spine and causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. Frodo sat at the foot of the bed while the others leaned wide-eyed against the headboard.

"What are they?" The blue-eyed Hobbit asked in a fearfully calm tone.

"They were once Men: great kings of Men." Strider commenced, but looked to me to finish telling them the tale. "Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question. One by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will. They are the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, neither living nor dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring. Drawn to the power of the One. They will never stop hunting you."

Their fearful eyes caused me to sigh and I walked over to the bed. As I sat on the edge, I studied each of them for a long, quiet moment. Merry and Pippin seemed so irresolute of what they were in, by the emotions in their eyes. I fondled Pippin's hair and whispered "Go back to sleep, we leave at dawn." Within a matter of minutes, all of them were fast asleep allowing Aragorn and I to speak.

"Where have you been? It has been almost 5 years since I saw you last." My eyes gazed at the dying fire in the hearth as I slowly stood from Pippin's side so not to wake him. "Lothlorien, while you were out with Mithrandir hunting Gollum." His eyebrows rose as I gave him a small knowing smile. "I stayed there for a while, and then I traveled to the North." From where I stood, I could hear him take in a deep breath. "It is dangerous for you to be there." As I turned to face him, his lips were pursed into a very thin line. "I can take care of myself." I replied defensively. Before I could say anymore on the matter, he rested a hand on my shoulder. "You should rest. We have a long ways to go dear one." After curtly nodding, I slipped off my boots and removed my weapons; resting them on the floor beside my bed. Once I sank onto the plush pillow, I gave a soft sigh and closed my eyes. Being in a bed was heaven compared to sleeping on the ground in the wilderness- though many would think it odd that I spend more time wandering than in one place.

'_But that is the life of a Ranger. A lonely one, but a life nonetheless. And that is the path I have chosen for myself.'_ I thought quietly before nodding off into a dreamless sleep.

The following morning, I woke to find Aragorn sleeping by the window and his chest steadily falling up and down. All of the Hobbits were deeply sleeping as I walked over to the Ranger and shook his shoulder gently. "Aragorn, it is morning. We must leave." He sat up with a slight start, but sighed and stretched before we awoke the little ones. They grabbed their belongings and we left the Inn after paying the Innkeeper for our room.

With purposeful strides, Aragorn and I kept a steady pace with each other- even thought I was nearly half a foot shorter than his nearly seven foot two figure. The Hobbits had to nearly jog to keep up with us until I slowed down enough so they could walk. "What are we doing Rohirrin?" Merry questioned as he took hold of my right hand. "Well," I began quietly as I looked around the market. Every stall was manned by someone eager to buy, sell, or trade objects. "We are looking for a horse Merry. We will need to carry supplies or one of you at a time should you tire." His eager eyes cast around with a look of awe.

Almost half an hour was spent at the market looking for horses. I walked into the stalls by the eastern gates and examined the horses there. Strider and the Hobbits watched from the door as I stared into the eyes of every steed.

"What is she doing?" Merry nudged Pippin but Strider seemed to hear them speak. "She is picking out a sturdy horse for us. Rohirrin is very fond of horses. She spent many a year among the horse-lords of Rohan." A ghost of a smile filled my lips at the memories, but soon disappeared as I saw a small pony in a stall by a man.

"Is that horse for sale?" I grunted, motioning to the brown colt with the blond-ish mane. The man raised an eyebrow at me and shrugged. "I asked," I began in a deathly calm tone as I put my hand on the sword's hilt belted at my hip. "Is that horse there for sale?" His eyes locked on mine, then my sword but nodded quickly as I glared at him. "Take im', f-free o' c-charge." He stuttered. I was almost hit by him throwing the saddle and reigns at me, and hurrying away with a worried look in his eyes: muttering something about Rangers. The pony nibbled my hand as I led him from the stall to the others. Sam's eyes lit with delight as I handed him the reigns. "Why he's pony, and a nice one a' that!" Frodo looked at Sam, who was petting the horse's nose gently. "Name him if you wish Sam." If his grin could pull up any more, his face would have broken in two. "Really…that's awful nice of you Miss Rohirrin! I think I'll call him...Bill." Pippin and Merry nodded in agreement as Strider shook his head side to side. "Bill it is then…" He murmured as we loaded 'Bill' with our things and began the trek out of the small town of Bree.

"How did you get the horse and saddle without paying a penny?" Aragorn whispered, looking back at Sam who was fondly petting Bill. The horse whinnied in content and flashed his teeth in a horse-like smile. Both Aragorn and I chuckled softly before I innocently replied "We were in a hurry. A bit of persuasion I suppose….oh come on, don't give me that look. We needed a horse so we could hurry up and get to Ismladris!" The man at my side put his hands up in defense as a wolf-like smirk wove onto his tan face. "I agree completely, not with your methods of course, but with your reasoning. Elrond will expect us in perhaps a few weeks…if Gandalf sent him word that is…"

At the mention of the wizard, my heart grew heavy. Something had happened to him, I did not know what but it was not good: I could feel it in my bones. "Indeed." Came my soft reply as I scanned the area. "But," Aragorn began with a smirk in my direction "knowing Elrond, he has foreseen our arrival and has told everyone of our return." A grimace spread like a shadow across my face when I heard this. Did he foresee something happening to Gandalf? Is that why he seemed so tense when I saw him last prior to meeting Gandalf?

We hadn't been walking for more than an hour at the least when Frodo wearily asked "Where are you taking us?" Before I could say anything, Strider piped up from his spot- surveying our path from beside a tree. "Into the wild" The dark-haired man replied simply; sniffing as he walked ahead of the four and myself.

"Hmph….I could've guessed that!" Pippin garbled under his breath quietly while he took up being the first hobbit in their small train of bodies. It took every ounce of self-control not to laugh at his remark- quite a charmer. With a heaving a sigh, and a shouldering of my bag, I walked ahead of the small ones and followed the fellow Ranger into the wild.

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><p><strong>Thank you to those who have reviewed and favorited the story thusfar!<strong>

**Kaycee-x John Cenaholic:** I know, terribly sorry she didn't, but it'll help later on with the story. I have many plans for what happens afterwards *evil laugh*

JustWeirdLikeThat,Kaycee-x John Cenaholic, LittleFlatts, and Alamyra thanks for being the first once to favorite!


	3. Chapter 3: The Wild

_Wow, sorry it's been **so** long since I last updated! Sheesh, I'm sick at the moment so this is the only time I've had to write. School has gotten really hectic- teachers must have some mind-connection and assign so many projects...all due on the same day. Thank you for all of the favorites and reviews. They have helped me with the writing so very much! Sorry if she seems Mary-Sueish right now, she'll get better I promise. Anyways, reviews keep the story alive! =)_

_**Disclaimer**: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of the characters- save Rohirrin and any aliases of her (including her true name)- the rest is owned by the ever amazing J.R.R Tolkien!_

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><p>The group had been silent for the first hour of their trek, with Strider in front leading the way and Rohirrin behind them.<p>

However, the silence was soon broken by Merry who whispered to the other Hobbits "How do we know this Strider, and Rohirrin for that matter, are friends of Gandalf?" Frodo glanced around, but didn't seem to see the woman watching him intently. Her head tilted ever so slightly to the side in curiosity as he paused in thought for a moment.

"I think a servant of the Enemy would look fairer and feel fouler." He muttered wisely. Rohirrin's eyebrows rose but she bit back a smirk as Merry snorted. "He's foul enough!" Frodo glanced back at his cousin, then at Strider. "And she's quite fair." Pippin put in, glancing to Rohirrin who was pulling her long hair into a tight braid, tucking it into her cloak as to not hinder her movement through the brush. "We have no choice but to trust him, and I suppose Rohirrin as well...after all they did protect us from the Nazgul at the Prancing Pony."

"But where is he leading us?" Sam cut in as he shouldered his pack more evenly.

All of them were tired from so much walking. Everything had been within a hop, skip, and a leap's length in Hobbiton. And if anything had been at length to walk so much, they would have used a pony or a cart to get there faster. The sun was almost at the point of high noon as they continued through the small brush Strider and Rohirrin had leaded them to. Neither of their guides had spoken a word since they left Bree. Though, they did exchange several glances at each other which had been caught by two of the Hobbits- Frodo and Sam. Merry and Pippin were too busy chattering quietly away to each other, speaking about anything and everything.

"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee. To the House of Elrond." Strider spoke up as he pulled his cloak tighter about him. Rohirrin simply pulled her hood over her face as she watched the fellow Ranger's actions. Her eyes casting everywhere about them as she surveyed the land. Sam's face lit up like fireworks. Wonder, excitement, and joy were twinkling merrily in his brown irises.

"Did you hear that? Rivendell! We're going to see the Elves!"

Frodo, Merry, and Pippin all shared bemused faces as they walked. Sam seemed even more thrilled and picked his pace up quickly so he now walked steadily beside Rohirrin. Her lips curved into a quick smile as she heard him mutter under his breath about the elves.

"You are interested in elves Sam?" The voice startled the Hobbit, but he nodded as Rohirrin walked beside him. "There's many a tale in the Shire and I thought it'd be grand to meet an elf in person. That'd be excitin'." Frodo and Merry noticed, confusingly, that as soon as Sam went into a rant of elves, their pointy ears and such, she corrected a few minor things. It confounded the Hobbits, but Strider sent her a hidden knowing gaze. Pippin scrunched his eyebrows over his eyes in thought. He was so intent on answering his own thoughts that he didn't see the tree in front of him.

As a loud _'thump!'_ reached the others' ears, Rohirrin spun around to find Pippin rubbing a red spot on his forehead as he stood behind a low tree branch. Strider rolled his eyes as Rohirrin huffed. "Pay more attention to where you are going Peregrin Took. We all need to reach Rivendell in one piece." The two Rangers walked ahead as Pippin gave a shake of his head. "Fair indeed..." He grumbled to himself dryly.

Silence caused time to tick by slowly as the group hurried through the bitter cold of the wild. The spot they had reached left tracks on the ground and clouds burst from the air as they exhaled. Rohirrin was already up the hill when she paused; watching the four Halflings halt to lug out cookware. Strider also saw them and cleared his throat loudly.

"Gentlemen, we do not stop 'till nightfall." Pippin looked up at him with an expecting gaze in his eyes.

"What about breakfast?"

Strider seemed perplexed by the small person, but he simply put it. "We've already had it."

"We've had one, yes. What about second breakfast?"

At this, Strider turned to Rohirrin in question. _"_They are most hearty folk who eat six meals a day_."_ With a nod, Strider walked over to a bush of ripened apples. Merry and Pippin chattered away below as Strider tossed an apple over his shoulder. It was caught by Merry, but sadly, the next one hit Pippin in the head. To both the Rangers' surprise, Pippin's head tilted upwards as he looked at the sky; almost half-expecting another one to fall. Rohirrin chuckled at Pippin, a smile gracing her face with a light that had not been there in a long time.

"_Gellon ned i galar i chent gîn ned i gladhog_. It has been long since I have seen you smile._"_ Strider murmured over his shoulder. _"_I have not found reason to, you of all people know wandering the wild and the North has no time for smiling._"_ Rohirrin replied seriously, catching the attention of the Hobbits.

"What are they saying?" Merry murmured to Frodo, who seemed confused as he was trying to keep up with their quiet, rapid words.

"Come, we must continue. There is no since in furthering this conversation _gwador vell_. The sooner we get them to Rivendell, the sooner we can catch up. Maybe then we can discuss the tiresome affairs of the wild and smiling._"_ Rohirrin grumbled, causing Strider to bite back a smirk. However, it fell into a frown as he noticed the look on her face. Gently he rested a callused hand on her shoulder. "_Hiril vuin_, please...do not tell me it is about-" She turned sharply, her eyes dancing with anger. "Don't you dare utter that name! We will speak no more of this Aragorn." Her shoulder slipped from under Strider's hand as she began walking ahead of them.

Her teeth bit at her bottom lip while her thoughts ran in circles- much like a dog chasing its own tail. The wound in her heart was still fresh. Even though it had been six years, the guilt had lessened very little. If she closed her eyes, she could still picture him: his fair hair, eyes as green as his home, and his lithe, elvish frame. It felt as if it had been days since she told the king and prince of Taur-e-Ndaedelos of Feredir's demise. They did not blame her for his death, but it had wounded the family and people deeply._ It had been her fault he had died..._

The party slowly made their way through increasingly rough country. The cold changed to warm, sticky air and the rugged snow-covered land to slightly hilly landscape. The trees whispering had once caused the Hobbits to tense, but they now stumbled through them- wanting a decent night's rest.

Heat from the sun had gone away, only to leave warm air lingering around them with crickets chirping noisily. Stars now lit the night sky above their heads and the forest gave way to tedious marshland. All of them were up to their knees in the sludgy mire. Though for the Hobbits, it was almost to their waists. The conditions were made worse by a mass of mosquitoes which attacked them unmercifully. Merry slapped recklessly at the cloud of pests hovering around him, but they didn't seem to let up.

"What do they eat- when they can't get a Hobbit?" He asked as he twirled about, swatting the air.

Behind him, Pippin staggered and fell into the mush beneath his feet. Rohirrin pulled him up quickly, wiping as much of the sludge off of him as possible. Her boots were coated in the mush, and she looked as dirty as Strider. A sigh escaped her lips as he stood- her attempt to semi-clean the halfling had failed. Mud still lingered on his trousers and shirt with a few stray chunks of it already drying into his curly locks.

They make camp for the night. Strider managed to kill a decently sized buck in the patchy grass, and brought it back for their meal and later rations. The female pursed her lips as she helped Strider prepare the dinner for the night, giving Sam a rest from his lovely cooking. She felt guilty for snapping at Aragorn earlier. He did not deserve her anger, no one did. What had happened was in the past, none of them were at fault. The feeling in her heart grew tenfold as she remembered that he had been the one to comfort her. Aragorn had always been there for her.

Slowly, she stood from her spot on the opposite side of the fire from him. As she sunk to the ground beside him, her eyes locked on the flames before moving to the man at her side. "_Goheno nin, gwador vell_." She whispered, watching as he quirked a brow. "_Boe?_ There is nothing to forgive_ hiril vuin_." A small smile lifted her solemn face as she touched the hand resting on the ground closest to her. "_Ni-yôzi zîr ki-yad_." His large and slender fingers encased her smaller hand gently before he once again locked eyes with her. "_Den iston._ Now, I believe the meat is ready to eat."

Four sets of hands gratefully took the food as the female Ranger divided the meat among them; leaving a few pieces to salt and eat dried in the coming days.

The Moon rose as the hobbits fell asleep one by one, slowly drifting off to better dreams to battle their longing for home, sore muscles, and weary bodies. Strider kept watch by the fire, a sword in his hand as he stared off into the dark distance. A tune softly bellowed from his chest as he hummed to himself; chirping of crickets and katydids creating a lulling summer lullaby alongside his voice.

"_Tinúviel elvanui,  
>Elleth alfirin ethelhael<br>O hon ring finnil fuinui  
>A renc gelebrin thiliol."<em>

Frodo awoke, hearing the tune before realizing it was Strider. He lifted himself up and stared silently at the Ranger: his big, blue eyes twinkling with questions. "Who is she? This woman you sing of?" He asked softly. The man blinked, glancing at Frodo before turning his eyes away.

Strider sadly looked into the distance of the marshes. Rohirrin watched the sky, using her arm as a pillow for her head. The glint of her grey eyes shined in the slight mist, but she saw Strider's emotions on his face clearly. He was troubled, weary, and home-sick. They both were. She missed Rivendell as well; the summer flowers, the waterfall lulling her to sleep every night as a child, and her foster family. She missed them dearly.

"'Tis the Lay of Lúthien…the Elf-maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal." Aragorn answered, she noticed, with a slight sadness seeping into his words. The story held a deeper meaning for the two from the race of Men. She had known Aragorn all her years: and, even though he was her elder, she knew he loved an elf-maiden deeply.

"What happened to her?" Frodo tilted his head to the side as Strider's shoulders hunched slightly; Rohirrin looked away listening as he tried to think of a reply. Moments ticked past in the silence, the Hobbit's thoughts straying until his questioned was answered.

"She died."

Strider's tanned face bore a hint of tears as he turned back to the Ring-bearer. Frodo soundlessly lay back against the grass without another word. His face blank from emotions; save the sadness that shown deep in his light-colored eyes.

"You sing of Arwen as well_._ Estel, if you were to claim your birthright upon the throne you could be married...happy._"_ Rohirrin stated as soon as the Hobbit's breath lulled with sleep. _"_It is not so simple. But I wish to see her…it has been far too long._"_ He replied with a gaze towards her. _"_And you will_."_ She proclaimed in no more than a quiet whisper that carried to his ears on the slight breeze. She gave him a lift upward of her lips before turning over and facing away from the camp before Strider could utter a single word.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Translations:<span> **

**Gellon ned i galar i chent gîn ned i gladhog:** I love to see your eyes shine when you laugh

**Hiril vuin: **Beloved lady

**Gwador vell:** Beloved sworn brother

**Taur-e-Ndaedelos:** A name given to a major elven realm (brownie points for anyone who can guess which one it is ;} )

**Goheno nin:** Forgive me

**Boe:** Is it necessary?

**Ni-yôzi zîr ki-yad:** I give you my love (Anduiniac)

**Den iston:** I don't doubt it

**Song to Tinúviel:**Tinúviel the elven-fair,  
>Immortal maiden elven-wise,<br>About him cast her night-dark hair,  
>And arms like silver glimmering.<p> 


End file.
